


we were never scavengers

by lostinthefire



Category: Rotkäppchen | Little Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6849190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthefire/pseuds/lostinthefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The old woman and the girl only know part of the story.  He knows the wolf as a friend, not just as a starving beast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we were never scavengers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arithanas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/gifts).



After everything is said and done; after the old woman and the girl are freed, after they've feasted on the wolf's flesh and given him the skin, the Hunter takes his leave.

"But why not stay?" the old woman asks. "It's dark outside, and we all know what waits, in the woods, in the dark."

"And you are more than welcome here," the girl pipes in. "We have space and food. You can leave in the morning."

But the Hunter shakes his head. "It's not my way," he tells them. "I'll take my leave and you'll not see me again. It's been good to help, but I don't belong here."

He turns away from them before they can protest, opening the door and stepping out into the night. His feet are steady and his mind is sure. The woods are a home for him, a sanctuary. There's no fear in his heart as he steps into the dark.

~

The skin speaks to him, just as the wolf had.

It whispers to him in the night, crying out how empty it feels. It longs to be worn again, to be filled with flesh and bone and blood, to move. It was not meant to sit inside some home and wait.

But he will not put on the skin; it's not for him. 

He knows the next owner will come soon enough.

~

The Hunter remembers the wolf. How beautiful he'd been.

There's beauty in the forest, in all the things that live there. The wolves that run, the birds that sing. Everything holds a majesty in it that he finds he can't ignore. It's hard to look away when being approached by a wolf; it's hard to blink when those eyes are upon you. 

But the Hunter knows how to look away; how the break the wolf's gaze and act of his own accord. He's older than the wolves, older than most of the forest, and he knows most of its tricks.

The wolf had been good; he had been a creature that was exactly what it was supposed to be, nothing more or less. And he had been proud to be what he was, had loved every minute of being a wolf, loved having a reckless heart and a mind that felt like it was on fire.

The skin had been a gift to him. He knew he might not be a wolf forever, but it was a thing he'd cherish for as long as he was.

And the Hunter knew that he would let the wolf's instincts overwhelm any other sense he had. He knew that one day, the wolf would fall, and he would have to carry the body into the clearing for the birds and the animals to consume.

He hadn't anticipated humans being involved, but there's a first time for everything.

~

The wolf was a talker. 

He had been a merchant once, a traveler peddling snake oil and dreams. The woods had wrapped around him, pulled him in until he was nothing but lost and confused, and that was how the Hunter had found him. He'd begged for help, for food, for freedom. He'd said that he needed to get out of this strange place and be back on the roads.

But the Hunter had seen something in the merchant's eyes, some kind of sadness, some kind of frustration. He'd wanted to leave, that much was true, but not to return to how things were.

And the Hunter had the skin.

"What if I gave you another option?" he'd asked. "What if I could set you free?"

The merchant was interested, but he'd hesitated, waiting for a trick, a catch. He'd been selling for too long to forget that there was always a price to pay.

"Be mine," the Hunter had offered. "Be my eyes, be my ears. Let me see through you, in the dark of the night and the bright of the day. Tell me what you learn of the forest and be sure that there are no intruders."

The merchant considered, then nodded, relief and delight settling on his face as they shook on the deal.

The Hunter draped the skin around him, and in an instant, the man shed what made him human and traded reason for the woods.

~

It went well for a long time.

The merchant, the man, learned how to peel away the parts of him he no longer wanted to find the wolf that had been buried beneath. He ran, he hunted, he became the wolf he wanted to be. The Hunter kept watch, smiling when the wolf came to him with kills or news of travelers on the edge of the woods. They shared meals, they shared stories. The wolf became a companion and a friend, and both enjoyed their time together.

But the Hunter had known for a long time that nothing is infinite. The world is constantly turning, and nothing stays the same forever.

When the wolf told him of the girl in the woods, something began to shift. The Hunter could feel the change in the air, and in the wolf himself. It had been a hard winter; the wolf was hungry, and the girl was cutting through the woods when she had been told not to.

The Hunter warned him, told him to take care in how he treated the girl, knowing the wolf wouldn't listen.

He watched through the wolf's eyes as he came upon the girl, heard the wolf's mind when he decided to find the woman first. He knew exactly where to find them after, when the wolf was asleep and overstuffed. He knew what he had to do; hated it, but it wouldn't do to let something like that take place without repercussions. And, after all, he had warned him.

~

When he frees the two of them, it is with regret. When they offer him the skin, it sits heavy in his hands.

They ask him to stay, but he knows he can't. The skin doesn't want to stay with the body, and he can't let himself eat more of the creature he had called a friend.

So he excuses himself and escapes into the woods once again, the skin over his shoulder as he lets himself return to the safety of the forest.

He knows someone else will be along; it's just a matter of waiting. It's the way of curious humans to want to cut through the woods, and the next owner will come soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I managed to pull off the fairy tale atmosphere I was going for. I really liked the prompt and tried to do my best to do the whole thing justice.
> 
> Find me elsewhere:  
> [My DW](http://rootsofthestories.dreamwidth.org) (which I use regularly)  
> [My Tumblr](http://analtarofstars.tumblr.com/) (which I am very rarely on)  
> [My Twitter](http://twitter.com/harvestgraces) (which I am on at random)


End file.
